Tag Archives: fabriano quadrato artist journal

Sometime in January I knew things were not right and that a climax was on it’s way.

I phoned the local drug and alcohol detox facility on January 22nd, 2012 and self admitted myself three days later for seven days. For an entire week, I went through the rather uncomfortable detoxification process, and survived.

I’ve been sober off over-the-counter medications and alcohol ever since.

I didn’t think a relapse would happen this way. I mean… this coming August I’ll be seven years clean off hard drugs and five months cigarette free later this month… and now on the 25th I’ll be 90 days clean and sober off of everything.

Why is it that when you really like someone you get all crazy and can’t contain yourself and blurt out the wrong things and repeat yourself, asking the same questions over and over from sheer excitement because you do indeed like the man. These last few months have been nothing but extraordinary for me and I’m desperately trying to plant my feet on the ground again which over the last week has happened in a most intense and disastrous way.

I need downtime and traditionally January through to April have been the months when I steel the time to be alone or in one on one calm atmospheres to create, paint, write and choose to be home more often than not.

I’ve lost the ability to write openly and freely here on my blog because everyone knows about it now, especially here in my hometown, and I’m doing my best to come to terms with this and kicking myself for allowing said outside sources to dictate what I could and could not legitimately write about last year.

Have you ever found the honesty, respect, integrity and intimacy you’ve been searching for in a man only to have it hit you in the soul so blatantly hard that it makes you step back and go is this f#$%ing real? Then your wall falls down and you are so vulnerable and cold and shaking and needing warmth yet terrified to let someone else take control. And then they take control and you hurt and shake like nothing you have ever felt before because they choose to leave and do the opposite of what you hoped for?

I’m just over seven weeks smoke free #Quitsmoking um… yeah and ohhhhhhhhh so grateful that I stopped smoking for myself and for no one else or I’d likely be smoking again given the life circumstances that have arisen and that I seem to have found myself in and facing over the last seven weeks.

I haven’t been a man’s girlfriend in a very long time and I’d like to know what that feels like again for real. This isn’t really a finished blog post or even one that makes complete sense… but…

You should never trust so blindly or simply give up. Plain and simple… really?

I give up. And yes, giving up is a choice and this doesn’t mean that it’s a negative choice. It’s just a choice to change direction and reevaluate why doing the same things over and over again and expecting different results is an exercise in futility.

Ever feel like you lost your mojo? Or that everything else was strangling you for your attention?

It’s amazing what happens when your life takes turns that you weren’t prepared for, or for that matter, even wanting. Needless to say I’m happy these days and back in the studio working full-time again. While it’s easy to worry when one week turns into seven weeks without even picking up a pen to doodle with, simply realize that it’s just your brain saying give me a break and to go and do other things and that when you come back to your passion, it will still be there. And further more, when you do return, you’ll likely feel inspired from the time you took off and by the things you did do during that period of time.

The creative process isn’t about who can produce or sell the most within a set amount of time… it’s more akin to an apple tree growing and cycling through the four changing seasons. Every year you’ll find yourself experiencing different weather systems and people that will come, go or stay in your life.

And after you’ve doodled for a bit you’ll soon find yourself craving to draw more complicated pieces. I’ve always likened drawing to riding a bicycle. You may get rusty but as soon as you begin peddling doodling again the colours and ideas will appear.

I’ll be peeling the tape off of that one tonight. I’ll share the scans of it later this week.

Anyhow, wishing you all the best today and do take a peek at this new page on my blog!

So thank you everyone for the kind words and for sharing your hypothyroidism stories here on the blog, on Google Buzz and in email with me. The hardest part in all of this is accepting it and thus moving forward with changes I must make to my daily routines and eating habits.

I have many questions and concerns that seem to be unanswered at the moment or are answered in a way that brings up more questions or the answers just haven’t sunk in, yet.

Can I take a pro-biotic with Synthroid in the morning as it’s to be taken on an empty stomach and first thing in the morning too? I take two 10,000,000 billion active cells capsules that contain both acidopholus and bifidus. This has kept Chron’s disease in remission for 14 years and I do not want to stop taking it as it works.

And what about Calcium? I was taking 500mg of calcium carbonate/citrate w/ vitamin D daily and used to take it first thing in the morning too at the recommendation of my family doctor in Vancouver, due to a family history of early onset osteoporosis. When do I take this supplement if I can’t take it with Synthroid? Is it safe to take it at all while on Synthroid? Do I take it before I go to bed instead? Is that safe? Continue reading →

A simple handshake made her heart flutter… made her exhale and unable to inhale and she hasn’t been quite the same since.

On Christmas Eve everything changed. I felt electricity flowing when I turned and shook your hand and wished you Merry Christmas near the end of Mass. I haven’t been the same since. That ‘flutter’ still exists. I still didn’t know who you were. I don’t believe this has ever happened before to me.

And then you shot around the pew that separated us as the congregation stood to form lines to receive the sacrement. I couldn’t help but smile and talk to you. I know it was church and that you are not supposed to talk but your smile made me melt and your eyes mirrored what I felt. It was so cliché that I asked what your name was saying that you look familiar and did we attend high school together?

I felt blood rush to my head and nothing else existed but your smile, your face, your bright shining eyes your and second handshake upon introducing yourself while I introduced myself to you. My nerves exploded.

And we did attend high school together. We were in law class together.

You told me you worked in Alberta at the tar sands and that you had a house on the Old Rothesay Road.

I told you I bought a house over East and that I was an artist. You asked if that was hard and I said “At times” but that I rent rooms too, to supplement my income.

We walked down the length of the pew and joined the moving throngs of Catholics in the central main aisle to receive the sacrement. I wanted to keep talking… I wanted to hold your hand… wanted to scream I like you… wanted to put words to what I was feeling inside.

You had said that you likely wouldn’t be attending the 20th high school reunion but that you might attend the 25th in 2016.

I walked back to the pew after communion and the heat creeping over my body was almost more than I could endure, while kneeling to pray. When I rose to sit you were still kneeling behind me. I could barely breath. The rushes never stopped. Then the congregation rose to sing the processional hymn Silent Night. I’m singing and thinking that I need you! How do I get in touch with you.

When people began to leave the service and began talking amongst each other I turned to you and dug out a business card and gave it to you as you said you weren’t on Facebook. My folk’s were leaving and I had to go with them. I walked slowly from the church and then outside into the frigid Winter air darting my eyes to see if I could catch another glimpse of you. I didn’t see you. My mind wrestless with thoughts. Is he married? Is he single? I can’t believe I dug out a business card in church and gave it to a man.

I climbed into the back seat of the car while dad climbed into the front. We waited for mom. Then you walked in front of the car, crossed over and got into the drivers side of a beige pick-up truck, alone and sat there staring across at the headlights of the car I was in. And I stared back at the dark truck you were in. I wanted to jump out and run over to you. All I could do was stare and hope that you’d contact me via my website contact page as there was no phone number listed on the business card that I had given you earlier.

A star from fell from the sky that night after mass while she stood on the backyard deck around midnight.

Christmas Eve came and went.

I drew the pen marker drawing inside a Fabriano Quadrato Artist Journal on the 23rd of December while thinking about skyscrapers and how humans are stacked one on top of the other within them and how it’s better to live on the upper most floors where the street noise is faint and water and sewer pipes are not continuously flowing within the walls.